Refrain
by Luna Lapin
Summary: ...and maybe, just maybe, you'll be able to make it through.
1. Obsess

**I, Hinamori Rin (although said name is simply a Pen Name) do not, in anyway or form, own Shugo Chara! or any Shugo Chara "branch-off" series. Therefore, if I somehow do come in possession of said anime (which is unlikely) I would like to tell all that this disclaimer is set in stone through out the entirety of my story, until further notice.**

**Love,**

**HR or RH**

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><p><strong>AN: I know, I've deleted tons of Shugo Chara! fanfiction stories, and I regret doing so. However, in my defense, I would just like to say that I only delete them because, well, in truth...I thought my writing style sucked. We all are quite guilty of this; reading over your own story with such dislike and bad criticism that only the writer could own, which is exactly what I did. Therefore, to those not fed up with my fickle way of uploading and deleting, please enjoy my story_._**

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><p><em>Obsess (V):<em>

_to haunt or excessively preoccupy the mind of_

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><p>There are actions in life that just aren't supposed to be attempted, but are just done anyway; feeding animals that will, most likely, follow you around for more food, having unprotected sex at the age of sixteen with the supposed "love of your life", purposely sticking your hand on a hot stove because "It's not that hot." But then, there are the actions in life that no one would attempt, such as now.<p>

Truthfully, there was no logic in gluing both of your hands together. It was simply idiotic, hazardous, and senseless. Not to mention the fact that said gluing would end up causing the "Gluer" bounds of pain in trying to tear their hands apart, for _Crazy Glue, _combined with the awesome, unheard of power of "The Toughest Glue On The Planet Earth", _Gorilla Glue_, was, without a doubt, quite strong. However, even if this unfortunate soul was able to unfasten the hold that the adhesive mixture had on them, then in the end, they'd be left with that hardened crust around, not only the perimeter of the two limbs, but the area as well.

All in all, in trying to find a legit excuse as to why your hands are glued together-there really wasn't one to think of.

Maybe, if desperate, you could say it was just a small experiment. A test to see if the slogans of the companies actually did their product justice. Simply just ignore the fact that there were other ways to try and find out the conclusion of your hypothesis.

Or, you could admit to being the loner that you really are (despite having only two or three people knowing of your existence), and say that the boredom of being alone has simply driven you to the edge of your Sanity Cliff and off. Therefore, in your dire endeavor to save yourself from acting out your insanity, you glued your hands tightly. But then, after the horrific episode of your temporary Logic Shut-down, you finally realize:

This might not have been a good idea.

Which is where Amu's thoughts found themselves. Yet, she wouldn't admit that, not even to her mind, for she was too proud. And also, blushing by yourself in embarrassment, in your basement, with your hands glued together, really wasn't something she was proud of. Though even with her abnormal amount of pride, Amu wasn't going to go and lie (to who, she wasn't sure) about her true intentions of gluing her hands together, because she was honest, brutally honest albeit, but still honest.

Which is why she kept her mouth shut as Lulu ran her hands under hot water to soften the glue.

The only regret of this faux-experiment: it didn't get her out of anything.

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><p>It was quite plain to see that Ikuto Tsukiyomi reigned over his Kingdom of Seiyo. Or rather, not really a kingdom but Seiyo Academy for Grades K-12. But, same thing, or as similar as school and an actual land mass go. Ikuto was the type of guy that was born perfect. The epitome of sublime. He was the socialite with the body of a God, and the charisma of a top-notch salesman, or a fantastic lying politician. And combine the fact that he could balance being the head of the student body, and sports department with family and friends, it was as though he was crafted by God himself.<p>

So, it made no sense as to why Amu found it disgusting that people were easily manipulated by that cocky grin of his.

Or, it might have made sense to her, for not even she could figure out her own psyche, and she had people to help her with such. But, we're getting off track from the point, which is Ikuto, because there would be no story without Ikuto.

Ikuto. Ikuto. Ikuto. It was quite ironic to Amu that the one boy she purposely bashed behind his back, literally, the one boy she went out of her way to avoid (besides the literal back talking), the one boy that even her friends (which wasn't much) didn't bring up around her, the one boy she supposedly loathed, was the one person on her mind.

Right now.

At this very second.

And probably the inevitable seconds to come. Hopefully though, these sacred seconds wasted on the indigo male were actually pity seconds for the rest of the students that were absorbed by the infest that is Ikuto Tsukiyomi, who Amu so lovingly nicknamed Myiasis. Yes, she hoped and she prayed that such a thing were true, just as she hoped and she prayed that maybe Tadase was downstairs cooking tacos.

And dear God, her not taking her medication was starting to kick in about now. What a stupid prick Karma could be. Amu really didn't like her, and now that she thought about...if Karma were actually an embodied person, then she'd probably be the most egotistical, baby-faced female with a sociopathic personality. But then again, Amu pictured her older cousin Rima Mashiro. And with all things wrong in the world, Amu did not want one of those being her cousin, who was just three doors down, biting her in the ass...for that's what Karma did.

Though, that did make things more comfortable for Amu when she thought of someone familiar filling the spot of Karma.

So, wow. Her thoughts really were out there, maybe she should just go get drugged up; but, yet again, in a way to deny the fact that yes, maybe the pills would help her keep her thoughts straight and her moods from swinging, Amu would like to say to all...that she's a non-conformist.

She was not a high schooler who happily gossiped and packed on the make-up. She was not one of the "Emo" kids who tried to be like the music they listened to...or maybe it was the other way around. She really didn't care that she had the looks of a Pop Icon (for she was told that by her small amount of friends) or if she could easily fit into the crowd that took up the majority of her school. Because, in all due respect to the people that _are _like that, but she thought they were douches, in their own little ways. Plus, there was also the fact that all Amu really cared about was trying to seem "fine" enough to not get put on more medication, and Myiasis.

And once again wow, her thoughts were scrambled at the moment...

Maybe she should consider taking that Zoloft and such that her doctor prescribed...or she could ramble on...

She'll spare her sanity and go back to picking at the hardened cast the glue made from earlier on that day. And in doing so, allows her to bring herself back to the present.

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><p>She really did love this jacket. Or maybe it was the spot she was wearing the jacket? No, most likely it was the jacket for this spot, no matter how well it kept you hidden, was shit...rather it smelled like shit, but same difference in the mind of Amu. She knew that most likely Tadase was looking for her, because Lulu and Rima couldn't. Those two went to some prestigious prep-college on the other side of town. Stupid Smart-Asses, always had to be top grades for them, huh? But, once again we shall stop ourselves from going off topic and backtrack back to the situation at hand.<p>

Which was why Amu was hiding under the stair well behind the dumpster. Most likely, it was because it was her favourite spot to dwell under until Tadase came to get her and take her home. Only to, once more, chastise her for not participating in her classes and getting an education for her future.

Seriously though, her future didn't matter. Without a doubt, no job was going to hire her, and all the teachers cared about was her psyche and the ability to not stress her out more than necessary, because they really did care. Though to Amu it seemed like a pretense, but yet again, this is her mind you are delving into.

So, finally, Tadase did find her. She was sitting there huddled up in the small corner, protecting her nostrils from the foul stench that emitted all around her from the horrific over-sized green waste basket, by shoving her face into her knees that were pulled up to her chest. The black jacket that was mentioned earlier, from three or so paragraphs before, was getting dusty, for it was three sizes too big and she ended up sitting on half of it. The Blonde Prince, as everyone seemed to call Tadase, reached out to pet her bubble gum coloured hair, and she of course, being the aphephobia* teen she was, cringed away, not wanting him to even think about the act.

Tadase understood this of course, and comprehending the situation, he simply extracted his keys from his messenger bag and dangled them in front of Amu.

She promptly stood from her Shit-Smelling Hiding Spot.

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><p>Ikuto never really understood as to why people avoided Hinamori Amu (rather they didn't avoid her, they just didn't know she was there). Then again, he was also a bit clueless as to why whenever they crossed paths, the female would always mutter something about Greek flies festering in her skin. But still, the indigo Junior really had no idea as to what it was that he did to the Sophomore. In all truth since she transferred to Seiyo Academy, from whatever school she was in before (he heard it was a boarding school), he's never once uttered a word to the hazel eyed girl.<p>

And yet, it seemed she disliked him...very much so.

And to Ikuto, that was unacceptable. Therefore, this was the motive for the very reason that the young female was always rotating around in his mind. No matter what he was thinking about, Ikuto always seemed to be able to relate the topic back to Amu. Which really did annoy him, though then again, she was a pleasant sight to daydream of; which was the only bright side to his infatuation. However, thinking about her did have it's unpleasant points as well.

Such as the thought of her hanging around with Tadase Hotori, The Blonde Prince who was gay (Ikuto knew this because he was dating his friend Kukai), and Nagihiko Fujisaki, that bi-sexual drag queen who wore make-up. The fact that she actually hung around those two really did irk him to no end, for she never once looked him in the eye and yet;

She'd happily follow both of them out the school to the parking lot.

That's amazing, Ikuto never thought he could shoot milk from his nose in surprise like that, the chocolate substance is everywhere. But, backtracking now. Ikuto was currently staring down the hallway at the three figures, Tadase in front and Nagihiko and Amu behind him, the two conversing, or rather the purple haired male continuously rambling on and Amu just keeping her head down nodding at whatever statement was being said.

Ikuto wanted to go after them, really he did. But, the thought of running up to them and stopping them, only to look like fool for no reason for doing so was what kept him from going through with his plan.

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><p>Amu really never go the point of eye liner, and other make-up. It's simply a pencil that you use to draw on your eyes with. Which is why she never used any. The idea of having a writing utensil so close to her honey orbs, it was off-putting. What if someone accidentally knocked into you while you were putting the black colouring on? Then you'd poke yourself in the eye, end up being blind in said eye and have the most embarrassing story to tell. But for some reason Lulu and Rima seemed to like it, for the two were both hogging the bathroom just to put make-up all over their faces-for what reason? Amu had no clue, but they seemed to enjoy the process of doing so.<p>

Amu sat there, on the toilet seat, transfixed by their process of "Beauty". Rima was no applying foundation to her already flawless skin, while Lulu was trying, and succeeding in some strange way, to create the perfect Smokey Eye look. In Amu's mind, the two looked perfectly great without make-up on, but of course they wouldn't listen. So, she sat there, watching as they finished up and moved out, leaving the counter top marred with the residue of blush, lipstick, lip-gloss, and of course, the ever frightening eye liner.

It was simply out of morbid curiosity, mind you, that Amu applied the black pencil from the corner of her eyes inward. She repeated the process until a thick charcoal line was made; she looked dead, how come no one ever told her she was deathly pale? The sound of the door opening broke her from her transfixed state of looking in the mirror. Nagihiko smirked as he caught her quickly looking away from her reflection.

"You're checking yourself out?" He asked in that patronizing tone he always did, most likely on purpose. The girl shrugged, not caring. Nagihiko was carrying his make-up bag, equipped with everything, and possibly more, that Lulu and Rima had as well. He always was religious when applying his make-up. He had a whole schedule.

Why was Amu hanging out with male Seniors that wore make-up.

She needed to go lay down.

Or maybe glue her hands one more time.

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><p>He was still on her mind, that indigo haired male. Did he not know how annoying he was, dancing and prancing in the inner depths of her thoughts? Even the dance moves he did were not even impressive and still, she stayed his audience, always on the edge of her seat waiting to see what step he would do next.<p>

She sounded like a pervert.

Not wanting to degrade herself anymore than necessary, Amu quickly sat up on her bed, watching a spider as it crawled along her carpeted flooring. Maybe she _was _insane, only crazy people would think about another person 24/7. But, like stated before, she didn't want to admit to her insanity. That would mean double the appointments and possibly another admittance, and she was comfortable living under this roof. The spider began to walk around in circles now, its eight legs moving together as one. It was really interesting watching this spider, it even gave her something to do. Harold, she'll name it Harold and she'll love and care for her pet spider for however long. Amu watched as Harold began to inch closer to her closet door. The pinkette got up from her huddled position on her bed and walked out of her room.

Harold laid squashed on the white carpet, eight legs still twitching, only a few centimeters away from the base molding.

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><p>Amu was back to her Shit-Smelling Hiding Spot, but today there was no black jacket, and there was no Tadase to come and get her. It was just her, the corner, and the perfume of Puanteur des Ordures. It was disgusting area, it truly was. Once in awhile, she'd come and find discarded trash, or unmentionable substances on the three walls that surrounded the hollow, but she didn't mind. As long as it kept off the Student Body Radar, all was well and sound.<p>

Which is why when Ikuto crouched down before her, she was very much surprised and not angered. Which she thought she would be due to her ongoing hatred towards the older male. He just sat there, keeping himself up by his two feet, bouncing to sustain what little balance he had, while he communicated with her. Asking her was she alright, is there anything he could do to help her, what's up. She didn't know how to respond, not verbally of course.

How could he have so much concern over her, why was he so kind to her. All she did was slash his name, detest his entire existence, she nicknamed him after an insect-induced fly disease, and yet he still was here, trying to get her to talk to him. Speak and utter a complete sentence. Amu couldn't comprehend his psyche as much as her own. And she most certainly couldn't comprehend why for some reason he was leaning close, and why his voice wasn't muffled anymore but gone altogether.

At 11 on a Friday afternoon, Hinamori Amu lost her first kiss, and Ikuto Tsukiyomi experienced the pain of punch in the face.

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><p>Chairs were pretty, really pretty. They were the best form of comfort there was. And to commemorate such excellence in their seating job, Amu happily carved up her desk chair with the cheap safety scissors Lulu gave her. They were the only sharp tool the people in her household trusted her with. Back and forth, the most likely plastic, blade went on the wooden seat. The pinkette was slowly making her way down to the spindle, scratching beautifully haphazardly etched patterns into the oak furniture.<p>

He was still on her mind, even after she put all that hate into the punch. Another scratch was made to the chair, this time to the front leg. There had to be something wrong with, other than the already diagnosed. She had to be having a relapse of some sort, it could only explain why her thoughts were lead back to the indigo douche bag. She lovingly scratched all the way up to the ear of the chair and back down to the apron, making sure to abuse the top and cross rail.

This was better than any therapy session she had.

After deducting that her chair had no more of the original perfection showing, Amu lifted the seat up over her head. She walked down the stairs, her roommates only giving her a second glance and then shaking their heads. Mentally, Rima made a note to make another appointment and to check on prescription fill-ups. The girl with a purpose ran out to the backyard, chair still in hands. There she threw the furniture up into the air, watching as it fell onto the deck beside her. Bits and pieces came loose and fell next to their grill and outdoor table set. Amu left to go in search for another chair, Ikuto still on her mind.

Tadase quickly ran out, and cleaned up the mutilated victim.

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><p><em><strong>Yeah, so R&amp;R.<strong>_

_**Please?**_


	2. Infatuation

**A/N: I would just like to say that although most of these thoughts being put down in my story are actually my thoughts alone, I am in no way imposing my religious views onto anyone. Thank you for understanding.**

**P.S: I apologize for my lack of updating, but I have problems...that are being cured but still hinder my writing process.**

**P.S.S: See if you can find the hidden swear acronym.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Wen nor Titanic the Movie**

**Thank you.**

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><p><em>Fascinate (V):<em>

_to bewitch, to charm; to captivate_

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><p>This couldn't be healthy, Ikuto deducted. Really, nothing about this could be healthy. The sight in his mirror, just wasn't good for him, he knew and yet...why the hell was it there? The indigo male touched the mirror with one hand and his cheek with the other; he winced. The bruising around his eye, it just couldn't be healthy. Thus, due to his assumption of the 'unhealthy' state, Ikuto greatly noted that this information must be sent out, via text message and Facebook wall posting.<p>

For five hours Ikuto had sore fingers, for a whole month Amu had a never-ending migraine.

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><p>Despite the fact that the woman next to her-Elsie, just call me Elsie-was smiling a sweet, harmless smile at her, the thoughts being produced did not seem in anyway to brighten up. No, in fact it seemed they only dulled down just a notch, or rather two or three notches. But Amu wasn't keeping count. No, instead she was mind crucifying Rima for adding on another appointment at fucking five in the afternoon. Did she not know what she had to do at 5 pm?<p>

Because, frankly speaking, Amu didn't. Yet, that didn't mean she couldn't think of better things to do other than be interrogated by some woman with at least four or so college degrees. What was with overachievers in her life, first Rima and Lulu, now this twenty something year old. Were they on some awkward missionary thing to convert her into the religion of Studious"ness". God, she hoped not. Still deciding whether or not her strange acqusations were correct or not, Amu burrowed into the side of the brown couch, it's design nothing like her Shit-Smelling Hiding Spot. Though, even so, she burrowed on, trying to mesh herself in with the neutral colour (which wouldn't work due to her abnormal hair colour).

"Amu, are you going to answer me?" No, no she was not. However, it wasn't because she was a disrespectful little brat, though Nagihiko has said otherwise, it was because to be blunt, she actually didn't remember what "Elsie, just call me Elsie" said before her thoughts took over. Which is why, Amu still sat there burrowing farther into the cushions, her hands kneading her jean clothed knees, silent and void of movement. Because, such as stated before, Amu was full of pride.

**And proud people didn't admit to their lack of remembrance. **

However, her forgetful nature wasn't the only reason that stopped her from answering, no...the true reason, the one that actually seemed to have logic backing it up, was fear. The pinkette feared of saying too much. Saying too much, would lead to speaking the truth, and speaking the truth would lead to more prescriptions for Zoloft or Prozac, and Tegretol. Or worse, re-admittance.

She seriously didn't need that happening at this point in her life. All she cared about now, was not getting prescribed and most certainly catching another episode of Paranormal State, because damn, that was her favourite show recently. And who can pass up Shadow Demons, and possessed children. Nobody, and I repeat, nobody. Unless you're a devout Christian or Catholic who gets offended by even the thought of Satan. Seriously what is the difference between the two? Amu just couldn't tell, they both started with 'C' and they both worshipped God and prayed, they even both read the bible. If it was up to her, religion would just be a one term deal, and if you had religion all you had to do was believe in God, none of these whole multi-Gods, or whatever shit was out there in history text books of the Religion & Spiritual section of Borders and Barnes & Noble. Speaking of Borders, it was out of business wasn't it. Lulu should have really gone down by Geoffrey Drive, she wanted some new books...but oh well.

Once again, she was amazed at the lack of order her thoughts were in.

By now "Elsie, just call me Elsie" had given up on Amu and her speech deficiency. The pinkette could tell by the way her manilla folder was being patted down and the composition notebook, Rima had bought her the one with multi-coloured checkers, that was solely for this purpose was being closed, rather harshly as Amu noted.

"Okay then, I think we're done here. I'll see you next week."

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><p>Their voices were faint, but due to their yelling, Amu could catch every word of the muffled and echoed conversation going on downstairs in the kitchen.<p>

"No! No, Nagi! That's not how you do it! You're supposed to section the hair and use the right amount of pumps."

"Who gives a damn, it's not like the hair knows, Lulu! God!"

Amu continued to stare out her window. Down below, a woman and a man stood facing each other, each holding one another's hand in an arthritic grip that even the on-looker could feel with discomfort. Above them, the sky was grey and the occasional cloud swished by in one fluid motion. One car, a Mercedes, slowly inched closer to the standing couple, the young woman bent down to gather up a suitcase, something Amu just noticed, as the silver vehicle came to a stop before the two. Words, that the pinkette couldn't fathom to make out, were exchanged, and the woman sighed a breath of relief as she sat in the passenger seat of the car. The man flipped them off as they drove farther away from him. Amu turned her gaze elsewhere after that, feeling quite intrusive as she could now make out the faint beginnings of an epic swearing expose in the middle of her street. Downstairs in the kitchen, the conversation got louder.

"Nagihiko! You don't need so much! It's not supposed to lather up!"

"But, it's shampoo isn't it!"

"No, it's Wen! Ugh, you just ruined it, go wash it out or something."

"That's what I was doing in the first place."

As the two quieted down, the speaking was lost to Amu's ears and she was left again in her silence, the only sound a faint background music coming from Rima's room. She was listening to that Gaga chick or whatever. All she knew was that she was singing something about Jesus being betrayed. Stupid religion. Interesting, she's been thinking about religion for quite awhile these days...wait not interesting, awkward. Yeah, that's the word, awkward. The red wall in front of her was beginning to swirl, that small crack starting to straighten out, and Amu could feel a slight bouncing feeling as she sat on her bed, imagining that she was going to fall over head first...into what, she had no clue, but it sure did take up time.

And making her feel nauseas. She should go walk around.

Once again, the argument below her started up again, the sound of water running from the kitchen sink, and Nagihiko screaming.

"Dear God! Lulu! My hair is fragile!"

"You're a horrible test subject, go get Amu for me or something."

Amu's eyes widened with fear quite clearly, and most likely shock, as she panicked.

That walk may just have to wait.

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><p>She was back again, and Shit-Smelling-Hiding Spot welcomed her with open arms...or walls. Amu huddled against the right corner, trying to hide herself as she heard a teacher or student (sometimes she just couldn't tell) walk by her sanctuary. There was something about being in an enclosed space with hundreds upon hundreds of her peers that was off-setting to her. And thus, it was due to this strange feeling that she deemed her social encounters finished for the day. But, she couldn't leave school because of the obstacles:<p>

Somewhere, most likely Macy's, Lulu was off looking for new pots and pans for their kitchen. Rima had an appointment at the hairdresser. Nagihiko was off on some "quest for himself" in Newport, and Tadase had stayed in bed claiming the "flu". Which meant, Lulu still couldn't cook, Rima will always stay a superficial prima donna, Nagihiko was following another false dream, and Tadase got laid for the umpteenth time by Kukai; who Amu saw smirking as he sauntered down the hallway with Myiasis. Feeling queasy as she thought about having to sit in her spot for another two hours, Amu began picking at a strip of skin connected to her pinky that wouldn't fall off. She twisted it around, entranced as blood began seeping from the spot keeping it intact. It stung, but she chewed on it anyway.

Just think like Thomas the Train, as "Elsie, just call me Elsie" explained, You. Can. Do. It. If. You. Think. You. Can! Though, those pauses and punctuations were never used when she spoke enthusiastic, and maybe that chant shouldn't be used in the scenario of bodily harm to your pinky finger. But they were encouraging, and sure enough the strip of skin fell off, blending in with the floor due to it's transparency. Feeling squeamish at the thought of other people mutilating their pinkies, Amu shut her eyes pushing back that strange bile, that wasn't really bile but spit that tasted like bile, down her throat.

"Nasty." She whispered, feeling the word on her lips as she hiccuped lightly from the taste of the Faux-Bile.

"What's nasty?" _Holy Monkey On Forever Oppression Jesus Christ Banana Shit Kai! Wait, what...hold on...what did I just say? _Amu couldn't think straight as a certain disease came into view. With eyes wide, and mouth agape, the only coherent thing to come to her mind was the thought above...which wasn't really coherent if one was to look deeply into the meaning. The object of her problem simply gave that blank stare of his. That perfected nonchalant gaze that gave him the perfect look of 'I-Don't-Care-What's-Going-On-But-I'll-Humour-You-With-My-Sexy-Bod'... ...

... ... ... ... ...

Not that that's what Amu got from his stare, it's just that...what she meant was...she just heard that in the girl's bathroom during lunch...yeah...because that's a better excuse compared to 'I thought it up', since her sanity was still be debated. Debated by Over-Achievers, once again back to the people trying to mold her life. She hated conspiracies, always trying to bring her down in subtle ways...or rather ruin the world in subtle ways and not just her. Either way, conspiracies are hurtful and never amount to anything but pure and utter hell...though pure may not be fitting in the statement.

Amu shook her head, trying to refigure out what was going on, and why the hell was the Titanic theme playing her mind? She finally became aware of the fact that abnormally dark blue eyes were staring straight at her, and a smirk was now becoming prominent on the once indifferent countenance.

"You're cute, you know that?" Amu dug her fingers in the side of her thighs, it was at this time she wanted to make her masochistic tendencies reach a whole new level; a level that might be called suicide. For she was feeling so confused, any painful death would be more enjoyable. She didn't know whether or not she wanted to kiss the figure leaning into her sanctuary or punch him square in the face.

"You kissed m-Holy mother fucking jesus! Why the fu-OW!"

She chose to make her masochistic tendencies a bit more sadistic.

**A/N: I don't know if you'll feel disappointed by this chapter or not, because to be honest, I'm neither. I just really wanted to update as way to relieve my guilty conscience. So...one cup of coffee, two hours, and a shit load of distractions have produced this chapter...enjoy?**


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